


Tourney Season

by voiceoftheguns



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 11:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voiceoftheguns/pseuds/voiceoftheguns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tournament will begin at the end of the week, if everything goes to plan. A knights in colorful armor AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tourney Season

Kíli sweated in his leather padding, the practice sword heavy in his arm as he waited for Dwalin's signal. The horse he rode shifted and tossed her tail.

"Master Dwalin," he called loudly, raising the sword as Dwalin turned to look at him. "Surely you're ready to begin. Or do you find it easier to take things slowly in your old age?"

Kíli could practically hear Dwalin's grumbling from across the track, and he grinned in response. Fíli slapped his knee and handed up his helm.

"Go easy on the poor man," Fíli said sternly, but a twinkle in his eye gave him away. "You know that he prefers to be called _experienced_."

With a laugh, Kíli rode to the center of the ring, and his practice session began.

-

It was usually Fíli on the horse with the sword, but an accident and a sprained wrist meant that he would be out of the rounds to heal.

"Mm, so you'll be missing the tournament this week?" Bilbo asked, clearly still distracted by the large tome on his desk, though politely trying to appear interested in Fíli's company instead.

Fíli sighed. "I'll be there," he said. "I won't be missing it entirely. I'll just be watching all the fun, not participating." He grimaced. "Uncle has asked me to keep an eye on Meredith anyway, though."

"That horse hates you," Bilbo muttered.

"Tell Uncle that, maybe he'll believe someone other than me. In any case, Kíli will be with Miranda. He'll be alright."

"You don't sound very sure of that."

"Well, he'll be alright, compared to me in the stables with Mer."

Ori chose that moment to walk into Bilbo's study with another large stack of books. He giggled.

"Oh, quiet."

- 

Bofur was their master stableman, and it went without saying that all the residents loved _him_. Perhaps this was in part because he considered the horses to be the masters of the house, and Bofur was simply a communicator of grievances. 

He cornered Dwalin after one of Kíli's latest practices. "Master Dwalin, I've a bone to pick with ya."

"Er," Dwalin replied.

"Ya see, we've asked for apples with our oats, and ye've given us apples with our oats, but now we're fresh out of carrots and not another barrel to be found."

"I'm not really the one who takes care of that," said Dwalin.

"I knew ye'd understand," Bofur replied. "And since yer the best link we've got to the main Master, I knew ye'd offer to be the one ta talk to him, eh?" In a nearby stall, Meredith huffed loudly.

"Er," said Dwalin. "Sure."

"Many thanks, my lad," Bofur said, grinning up at the slightly bewildered knight and patting his shoulder before wandering into a stall.

-

"The stables are out of carrots," came a grumpy voice from the kitchen door.

Bombur looked up, suppressed the urge to glare, and responded with a polite, "Oh?"

The grumpy face attached to the grumpy voice stared at him pointedly. "The stables are out of carrots, and I was hoping that the kitchens would be able to spare a few until we renew our supplies."

Bombur sighed, asked, "How long?"

"Perhaps until the tournament begins."

"Don't expect carrots in the stew, then. And really, we're not the ones who take care of that."

"Tell me about it," Grumpy muttered as he walked away.

-

"The shipment is going to be a few days late, Thorin. Now, don't start - I told you their message, remember? A slight delay on the road."

Thorin sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I wish you had told Bofur. He could have better rationed the stable's supply until the next one arrived."

"I would have, but you offered to do that in my place," Balin said, calmly scratching away at his papers as if Thorin's entire world weren't falling down due to bloody _carrots_.

-

Sitting in the seats of the empty stadium was an incredibly peaceful experience, Bifur thought. The dirt arena and the rising stands and the chilly air created a certain kind of sanctuary from other souls, from noise.

Well. It usually did.

"It's right creepy in here when there's no one else around," said Nori, rubbing his arms against the cold. "I feel like I'm in some abandoned village."

"Eh?" said Óin, pointing his ear trumpet in Nori's direction. "Pillage?"

"You know, this would be lovely with a bit o' chicken an' ale," Nori continued. "With just enough of a crowd for company, none of that packed-so-close-ye-can'-move business. And I suppose the tourney itself would be a fine show. With enough o' that ale, at least."

"What? Hail? No, no hail tonight."

-

Dori added up the ledgers, and then added them one more time.

"Don't wear yeself out, now," Glóin said from the other side of the table, where he sat with his own accounts to total. "The big day isn't even until tomorrow."

Dori groaned. "What I wouldn't give to call in sick," he said, voice muffled as he held his face in his palms.

Glóin reached over and thumped Dori's back in what he probably thought was a kind way. "There, there, laddie. First day of the season is always rough, but it'll work out well enough."

"Yes, well. However. This is the first year my brother is involved."

"Hm? The little scribe? He's been around."

"No, my...other brother. He started working in the stables, with Bofur. He's, uh. Rather excitable, at times, you could say."

Glóin thought for a moment, then said, "Not the long-haired ginger? The one who's been doing that odd braid in the manes, and who's been trying to get Dwalin alone in an empty stall for the past week?"

"Yes, that's - what?"

"Mighty fine handiwork, those manes, always a pleasure to see new styles."

-

"Professor Baggins!" Kíli shouted happily as he spotted Bilbo through the crowd. He waved Bilbo over, face split into a ridiculous grin all the while. "I was afraid you wouldn't come!"

"Oh – yes, well," Bilbo said, standing awkwardly between the faux stone wall and Kíli in his robes of canary yellow as the crowd of visitors meandered past them. "I, hm. Couldn't miss the first show of the season, could I?"

"Good to hear," Kíli replied, grinning toothily at a group of kids as they passed.

"I suppose I should wish you luck, then? It is your first ever show."

"Thank you kindly, my good man," and Kíli bowed, probably for the sole benefit of their onlookers.

Bilbo slipped awkwardly away from Kíli's performance and navigated through room, passing a vendor selling cloth-petal roses, another selling princess caps, and yet another selling amber ale in plastic mugs with "Medieval Erebor" stamped on their sides (and he really hoped that wasn't Nori he saw sneaking backstage a pint, wasn't he working?). At the back Bilbo stopped and hovered by Thorin, clad in blue, gazing intently around the room.

"Well, Master Baggins," Thorin said, nodding at the polyester tapestries and false suits of armor dappled between the booths. "What does our medieval expert and historical consultant think of the renewed decor?"

"Ridiculous and terrible and downright silly, as always," Bilbo huffed. "How I got involved in this I don't even care to remember. Just don't get yourself injured again this year, Thorin, it's such a pain to hear you worry over your understudies. And yes, Kíli will do just fine."

Thorin nodded. "I do not doubt him. And if I may," he added quietly, "I would ask you to remember to use our titles on working nights, Bilbo."

"Oh, for heaven's sake. My apologies, _Sir_ Thorin."

Thorin smiled slightly, and Bilbo started to think that an early ale sounded like a good idea.

**Author's Note:**

> I wish I could say that this didn't _start_ as a slightly cracky Medieval Times AU, but that was really my plan all along.
> 
> Fíli and Kíli and Thorin are all featured here as knights, but I like to think that Dwalin is also a regular, Balin and Glóin and Dori take shifts, and Dís - too smart to get caught up in pre-opening shenanigans, apparently - is revealed as a woman knight before the night is through but after she's kicked some ass. Or before she's started kicking ass. She's flexible, she'll work it.
> 
> And for the record: Meredith has nothing to do with Fíli's injury, though he usual allows people to assume that she did, as the truth is rather more embarrassing (he slipped in the shower).


End file.
